LOUDER, BUT NOT SMARTER

The season of entrance exams has ended. Thousands of applicants in Azerbaijan may still be undecided about which university to attend, but this crucial milestone in their lives is behind them. Admission remains a symbol of maturity, a promise of the future. Yet, beneath the surface of numbers and diplomas, a growing question emerges: what is the real motive? Do young people pursue education for the love of knowledge or out of fear of losing social status? Is a diploma a gateway to a profession or merely a tick-box in one’s biography? Most importantly, does intelligence hold value today when reality rewards popularity, speed, and spectacle over substance?

In an era when 15-second clips attract more engagement than lengthy scientific lectures, we return to the fundamental question: what has happened to the prestige of knowledge, and can it be restored?

Once, bookshelves in Azerbaijani homes commanded deep respect. The term "intellectual" was not simply a title but a statement of a particular lifestyle—thoughtful, measured, prudent. Today, that image is fading. It is being replaced by another figure—impulsive, self-assured, phone camera extended forward.

This does not mean that intelligence has lost all importance. However, it no longer carries the symbolic weight it once held two decades ago. The figure of the “knower” now provokes doubt rather than admiration. In the new digital culture, knowledge is considered too slow, too complicated, too... quiet.

From books to clips

Digital formats have made information accessible but have not ensured its meaningfulness. The rise of short-form content—from TikTok to YouTube Shorts—has transformed consumption habits. Users expect instant gratification, immediate emotional impact. Lengthy reflections, complex ideas, sentences with dependent clauses are viewed as inconvenient.

In this compressed and fragmented environment, concepts such as “scholar,” “reading,” and “thinking” are losing ground. Intelligence becomes less an attractive trait and more a burden. It is not that society is becoming less intelligent; rather, the way we perceive the world is shifting—from deep analysis to rapid visual impressions, from accumulation to immediate reaction.

Popularity without competence

This trend is particularly acute in Azerbaijan. We are a society where respect for words, books, and educated individuals has long been embedded in our cultural fabric. Yet today, young people increasingly derive their world-view from Instagram stories and Telegram channels where depth of knowledge gives way to expressiveness.

A new breed of heroes has emerged—charismatic, confident voices with opinions on everything. They need not be experts on their subjects. Their power lies in speaking loudly and confidently, presenting themselves well on camera and “getting on the feed.” A so-called blogger discussing psychology may attract more attention than a scientist with decades of experience because algorithms prioritise clickability over expertise.

This creates a cultural bias: knowledge loses to charisma; reasoned argument loses to confidence; diplomas lose to background and lighting. Society comes to believe that one need not truly know to be heard—just appear convincing. Until intellectual discourse learns to compete in this arena, it will be sidelined—not because it is inferior but because it is quieter.

Learning for box ticking

Yet, one phenomenon remains striking: demand for university places in Azerbaijan remains high. Competition for popular institutions is fierce; many prepare for years, hire tutors, retake exams and delay enrolment.

Yet behind this enthusiasm lies rarely a thirst for knowledge. University today is less a sanctuary of learning than a necessary rung on the career ladder. A diploma serves less as proof of expertise than as a passport into social life. Without it, finding a job is difficult; explaining “what you do” becomes challenging; meeting family and societal expectations becomes harder.

Consequently, the university system operates in simulation mode: students attend formally; teachers assess formally; knowledge transfers formally—all for the sake of obtaining a certificate that allows life to begin—not necessarily in their chosen field.

Today in local universities, conversations between classes often go like this:

"Did you take notes?"

"Why bother? I can find everything on ChatGPT."

This exchange is not about intellectual laziness but reflects how knowledge acquisition logic has shifted from accumulation to instant accessibility.

Silence in the library

The intelligent have not vanished. They continue teaching at universities, publishing articles, translating books and conducting research. But their voices grow quieter. They dissolve into digital noise — endless scrolling and streams of visual stimuli.

The problem is that intellectual practices are poorly adapted to new media formats. They continue producing value but suffer from lack of visibility. Their work remains where few seek it: long texts, lecture halls, little-promoted websites, universities and research centres, sparsely read columns. This narrows their influence to circles of fellow intellectuals—a closed environment where the learned speak to the learned but not society at large. Increasingly, society views them as “by-products” rather than pillars of progress and dismisses them as “nerds” — irrelevant.

What about respect?

There was once pride in saying: “He is very educated.” Now it often carries irony. People ask: "So what? Is he successful? Does he have followers? Money?" Prestige has shifted from erudition to visibility. Influence now belongs not to those who know but to those who make an impact. Education no longer guarantees status; in some circles it even alienates—especially when not accompanied by wealth, likes or visual sparkle.

Young people sense this shift. They wonder: why read Plato or Foucault if it won’t earn likes, followers or career confidence? Until society offers a transparent, honest and inspiring answer to this question, it will only grow louder.

Not to return, but to "reimagine" it

Romanticising the past or fighting TikTok or waiting for book clubs to revive is futile. The task is not to return but to rethink knowledge’s role in today’s world. Perhaps it is time to "reimagine" what it means to be smart—not only as connoisseurs but also storytellers; not just readers but mediators.

The world has changed — yet there remains space for knowledge if it becomes flexible, alive and public. If intellectuals shed their “ivory tower” image and become explainers rather than distant authorities.

Such figures already exist in modern Azerbaijan: teachers running YouTube channels and educational Reels; young scientists explaining genetics or economics on Instagram; writers engaging audiences live rather than lecturing from above; humanitarians hosting podcasts. They retain their essence while changing form. Though still few in number, they embody the beginnings of a new "brand" of knowledge—not elitist but open—and offer a model for a future where intelligence regains its value.

A finale without morality

Knowledge has not disappeared; intelligence has not become obsolete—it has simply moved elsewhere. It suffers from poor marketing in today’s world where attention spans last fifteen seconds and meaning is conveyed through emojis. This challenge is difficult but not insurmountable.

If intellectuals cease being aloof connoisseurs and become clear, modern interlocutors, society will respond. Fatigue with noisy superficial content is rising—and against this backdrop calm thoughtfulness can become fashionable once again.

The mind no longer resides solely in libraries but stands at a crossroads: either it learns to persuade within short formats or yields to imitators. Knowledge must re-enter the cultural code—not because it should but because without it society cannot sustain its own pace.

This is our era’s challenge—not reviving the cult of intelligence but giving it new shape; making it prestigious again not only to know but also to think.